


I won't die alone and be left there

by bloodysteel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Happy Ending, post 2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3266636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodysteel/pseuds/bloodysteel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They managed to get into Mount Weather. They made it. And now Clarke is looking for the only thing she craves inside that mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I won't die alone and be left there

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by all those parallel gifs with Bellamy and Clarke when they arrived on the Earth and now. Their smiles kills me and I wrote this. I advised you to listen to Mumford and Sons while reading (After the Storm, from which the title is extracted, and Home).

_Blood_. Blood rushing through your eyes and your brain and your veins and you can’t see right. Your vision is suddenly blurred and you can only make out shapes in the dim light, only black from the white background.

You stutter; try to hold yourself onto the wall on your right and you can’t breathe properly. The air is heavy around you and you feel like crying but you can’t. You can’t stop – not right now. So you carry on. You hold on tighter on your gun and the screams grow louder and louder. You cringe at the headache blinding you but you walk.

There’s blood pouring out of you. You notice when you glance back and see a trail of blood behind you. But you carry on. You close your eyes for a second trying to regain balance and vision but it does not work.

_It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it._

You groan as you take another step and you realize the blood comes out of your belly. You remember the gunshot and the sudden pain. And you walk on. The screams fade away and the silence surrounding you is deafening. You put your hand on your wound and press as hard as you can to stop the bleeding. Yet the iron smell is filling the air around you and you wrinkle your nose, trying to make it go away. It does not work and you taste iron in your mouth too now.

You should be up there with the others. You should lead, but you walk. You walk until you can make out what you were looking for. A twisted smile forms on your smile and you push the heavy steeled door with your shoulder. You groan because your wound hurts.

And suddenly it hurts in your whole body. You crumble. Your knees give in and you collapse on the floor, reaching for your anchor. You hesitantly raise a shaking hand but you don’t want an answer to your silent prayers. You don’t want to know and tears are rolling down your cheeks – _burning_ your skin. A sob forms in your throat but can’t seem to get out. You want to swallow it but you choke on it. You want to scream but you can’t remember how to.

_I can’t lose you too. I can’t lose you too. I can’t lose you too._

You hand falls and you wait. You realize your holding your breath when the answer you were so desperate for comes, and you take the deepest breath of your life. There’s blood all over your bodies and his eyes barely open, but he still smiles. And you smile back, crawling on the ground to touch him, feel him.

You can’t see anything because the ocean of your eyes is drowning in tears. You want to see his face, his smile you so don’t deserve and his freckles. They left him there for dead, life pouring out of him as he was drenched in a pool of his own blood.

“I’m sorry,” you say and repeat it over and over. You look for the bleeding and scratch your shirt, baring yourself to him, and try to heal him. But he has lost too much blood and you start to lose too much too. He raises a hand to stop you from your litany of apologies. Your tears are melting with his blood as you desperately try to save him.

“Brave princess,” he whispers and your heart skips a beat, remembering the first time he called you that. You hated him and you hated that nickname. For the love of every goddamn god of every civilization that ever walked the earth, you would give everything to go back to that moment. “I – I thought I’d never see you again.”

You swallow and order him to stay quiet, to keep his strength and you don’t stop healing him. You can’t stop. He is wounded. He _is_ a _wound_. Your chest is aching and you want to cry and scream like when your father was floated.

_I need you. I need you. I need you._

“Keep fighting. Don’t you dare stop fighting.” You urge him, wiping away tears from your face. You glance at him and see he is staring at you with his perfect smirk. You want to caress his cheek but you need to save him.

Blood. Blood is everywhere on your hands, on your body, on his body. You are drowning in blood. And then you scream, at the top of your lungs. You scream as you shift just a bit to treat him better but the bullet in your belly shifts too. It shifts and it hurts and blood pours out of you _faster_.

He growls and tries to rise, to stop you, to help you. But you stop him with a glare. A wounded, scared glare. Tears are burning your cheeks but the flames are burning down your insides. You don’t care about yourself, you only care about the freckled boy lying before you because of your foolishness.

_Love is weakness. Love is weakness. Love is weakness._

Even as life is slipping away and stars begin to appear before your eyes, you’ve never been more focused. You can’t let go. You won’t let go.

Then suddenly, blood stops flowing out of him. You smile weakly at him and he frowns. You don’t understand. His cheeks look a bit pinker than when you arrived but you can’t see right. You have lost your focus but you’re glad you made it. You apologized and you found him before it was too late. He does not bleed. He is not saved but they will find you, and then it will all be okay.

You raise your hand to caress his cheek gently, but you never reach his face.

All you see is black.

\--

It hurts. Everywhere. You want to move but when you try, it hurts even more and you growl. A chuckle echoes, far away in your mind and you growl louder. All you see is orange.

But your eyes are closed and there a shining light outside. You want to open your eyes but you know your head will _hurt_ if you do. Even more than it does right now. But you’ve always been stubborn and you need to know what happened. Why do you hurt so much? Why are you lying in broad daylight when you have so much to do?

You slowly open one eyelid and close it almost immediately, blinded by the light.

Then you remember, and your eyes flash open. You frown and look around at the full hospital beds surrounding you. Kids. Adults. The medical bay is full and you know you should be helping. You try to rise but your head spins and you start to fall.

But strong arms catch you.

“Easy there.” You look back and Kane smiles gently at you. You open your mouth to talk but your throat is too dry. He helps you down on your bed and brings you water. You drink even though you don’t want to. You want answers. Answers you fear and answers that will destroy you. But you want them nonetheless.

“Bellamy?” you ask and Kane’s face is blank. You want to cry. You want to reopen the wound and let yourself bleed to death. You gasp and hold back a sob. You are weak. You are weak because love was stripped from you – and you did it to yourself. You lied to him. You lied to your own self and you hate the person you were only days ago so much it burns down your whole body. You want to knock some sense into her, you want to tell him and scream it but you can’t. Your throat is sore. Your body is going limp and death seems appealing. You lost your soul.

“You saved him.” You stare at Kane and as your heart is beating loudly in your chest, Kane nods at some guard. Then he enters. You smile and he smiles back, and you both feel like you haven’t smiled like this since your first day on Earth.

His arms surround you and squeeze you and it hurts, but it hurts _good_. You’re overwhelmed by his scent and his body; you couldn’t ask for better. You start crying and his shirt is wet because of you, but none of you cares. You grip his neck and plunge your fingers into his hair, grasping it like you would gasp for oxygen.

“Don’t leave me.” You whisper in his embrace, a prayer and an order.

“That’s a request I want to spend my life fulfilling.”

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hope you liked it! If you want to talk about the 100, Bellarke or give me prompt ideas, feel free to join me on tumblr (I'm bloodysteel too :)).


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